


that I wish you hadn't

by baggvinshield



Series: Things you said [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03, Prompt Fic, Series, Tumblr Memes, canon typical discussions of murdery things, lots of conversations and some sort-of smut, things you said meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baggvinshield/pseuds/baggvinshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>“This conversation is unnecessary,” Will whispers, bending his head to press featherlight kisses to Hannibal’s throat again, “because I don’t intend for us to be caught.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	that I wish you hadn't

 

 

“If we’re ever apprehended, you should feign memory loss, confusion, a drugged state.” 

Will hesitates, his lips just above Hannibal’s clavicle. “Like Bedelia did?” 

“Yes.” 

“You want me to play the victim, then.” Will sits back a bit, enough to look at Hannibal’s face. it’s impassive and giving nothing away.

 “It might spare you incarceration if the authorities believe you came with me against your will.”

 “This conversation is unnecessary,” Will whispers, bending his head to press featherlight kisses to Hannibal’s throat again, “because I don’t intend for us to be caught.” Will’s kisses turn biting, sucking bruises in pliant skin.

 “Oh? And how do you suppose you’ll prevent the inevitable?” There's the barest tremor in Hannibal's voice.

 Will works his lips and tongue against the hollow of Hannibal’s throat, slides lower to graze his teeth down his sternum, feeling the hard bone underneath, aware he could tear at the skin here, reveal the white cage of Hannibal’s chest if he bit hard enough. He resists the urge, because it isn’t his so much as Hannibal’s.

 “Hush,” Will breathes, and when he sinks lower and takes Hannibal in his mouth, Hannibal tangles his fingers in Will’s hair, and Will works very hard to make him forget this topic entirely.

 

Hannibal doesn’t forget, of course, but when they’re laying together later, twisted and sweaty and sated, it’s a little easier to say the things Will didn’t want to say before.

“How do you plan to avoid capture?” Hannibal ghosts his fingers down Will’s arm, from scarred shoulder to wrist, and up again. It’s the closest to an unconscious gesture Will thinks he ever gets, in these moments where the world has bled away and it’s just the two of them suspended in the void.

(If Will closes his eyes and allows it to happen, he’ll feel the pulse of the Atlantic beneath them again - only it’s not the sea, but the rise and fall of swirling black water like ink, with nothing stopping them from going under but their own weightlessness, nothing keeping them afloat but their lack of mass.)

Will’s voice is low. “You just want me to talk about how I’d kill you.”

He feels Hannibal’s smile in the dark, genuine because there’s no point in lying. 

“Killing me won’t stop us getting caught.”

“Semantics. Our deaths would stop us getting captured and imprisoned. Do you really think they’ll let you avoid the death penalty again?” 

“This troubles you because you’ll not have me killed by any hands but your own.” 

Hannibal’s smile has widened, Will knows - not the cat with the canary, but the wild dog circling its prey, reckless and starved.

“Stop,” Will whispers, and turns to push himself further against Hannibal, tightening the arm he’d slung across his chest.

Hannibal’s smile drops. “Regardless, when we’re captured-”

“If.”

“ _If_ we are _apprehended_ , one of us should maintain innocence. It has to be you, for obvious reasons-”

“I’m sorry I left you in there for so long. Three years. Alone.”

Hannibal goes still, his face utterly blank, before turning away from Will, his mask slipping over his features and as impeachable as ever. Will watches the retreat and lays still. Silence.

“We’re not going to get caught, Hannibal. Go to sleep.”

And Hannibal does, eventually, and Will listens to his breathing even out in the dark abyss of the space between them.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been really struggling with writer's block lately/real life has taken over everything, so I'm hoping writing these will help me out a bit. Hope you enjoyed.


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